


seasons change, but people don't

by solongsoldier



Series: there's a light on [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Chicago (City), Immortals, M/M, Masculinity so fragile, Modern Alchemy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-09 01:13:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7781176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solongsoldier/pseuds/solongsoldier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>mustang rolls his eyes. "research?" he asks, his voice halfway amused and half so angry it's turned to granite. "i would've thought you'd learned that lesson already, fullmetal; there are some rules you just can't break." </p><p>ed ignores the way his stomach turns. of *course* mustang would be the only one with the gall to joke about alchemy's only unforgivable sin; of *course* he'd be the one to voice the concern every half-decent alchemist in the northern hemisphere has right now. anyone who knows him knows he's one the edge of *something,* but no one can tell exactly what, edward himself included, and the last time they saw a transmutation like this ed came back a day late and two limbs short.</p>
            </blockquote>





	seasons change, but people don't

an all-too-familiar voice says "oh, hell, this is _your_  mess?" and edward swears under his breath in english, japanese, hebrew and farsi, just for good measure.

"i don't call it a mess, alright, i call it research," he says. "and it's nice to see you too, by the way."

mustang rolls his eyes. "research?" he asks, his voice halfway amused and half so angry it's turned to granite. "i would've thought you'd learned that lesson already, fullmetal; there are some rules you just can't break." 

ed ignores the way his stomach turns. of _course_  mustang would be the only one with the gall to joke about alchemy's only unforgivable sin; of _course_  he'd be the one to voice the concern every half-decent alchemist in the northern hemisphere has right now. anyone who knows him knows he's one the edge of _something,_  but no one can tell exactly what, edward himself included, and the last time they saw a transmutation like this ed came back a day late and two limbs short. as much as he wants to, he can't blame them for being somewhat weary.

"why did you come here?" he says, overtop of his own screaming inner monologue. "you could ruin everything for everyone by just being here, and i know you're not that fucking stupid, so you must have had a reason that wasn't just to see my pretty face."

mustang snorts. "i think every time i see you you get shorter and more ill-tempered," he muses, shoving his hands in deeper into his coat pockets. "i came here because everyone else with any common sense is running in the opposite direction, and i figured someone should at least bother to give you a chance to jump ship; i'm getting the hell out of dodge the second you say no, of course, but i figured this way i might at least get some brownie points with the big man upstairs."

ed snorts. "if you're honestly still religious after all you've seen, you probably deserve worse than i could ever give you."

he shoves his hands into his pockets and comes up empty. al is always lecturing him about the risks of carrying a switchblade on his person, and apparently something finally stuck, because he's been walking wrigleyville for the past hour with nothing but his cell phone and his keys. he doesn't even have a good stabby one he could use in a real bind; since they don't have a car, his most intimidating weapon is key the size of a pack of gum.

... okay, so his most intimidating _human_ weapon. the real fun is elsewhere anyhow. 

"i don't want to fight you," ed says tiredly. as it sits right now, he can get in maybe two or three small transmutations before some mortals start to notice, and while he does have a few tricks up his sleeve, it's nothing mustang can't cook up himself on a rainy sunday afternoon. as far as advantages go, his is troublingly slim.

roy rolls his eyes. "shocking, that," he says, giving the mostly-abandoned street a once over. "and here i was hoping to leave this alleyway with your insides on your outsides and my favorite coat ruined."

edward rolls his eyes; roy can act all saintly now if that's how he wants to play it, but his hands are far from clean. "good, then we're clear," he says. "your bullshit moral obligation is completed, now get the fuck out of my city. don't let the door hit you on the way out."

mustang meets his eyes for a heavy second, then looks down at the ground with a heavy sigh. "i hope you know what you're doing, edward," he says. his voice is more real than ed's heard it in a thousand years, the kind of honesty that feels like getting punched in the solar plexus, and for a minute there ed can't breathe from it.

 just like that he's gone.


End file.
